


About the Moonlight

by Mina Lightstar (ukefied)



Category: Hunter X Hunter, YuYu Hakusho
Genre: Crossover, Doomfic universe, Dubious Consent, M/M, predator and prey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-23
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 12:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukefied/pseuds/Mina%20Lightstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you frightened?" / "I'm INTIMIDATED."</p><p>Youko Kurama hunts; Kurapika is both the prey and the reward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About the Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> A PWP, sort of, mostly -- an excuse to finally have written out this YYH/HxH scenario that just wouldn't leave me alone. It borrows on the assumption of a larger, more involved story surrounding the two casts's circumstances that I _have not written._ Just to warn you.

The temple is silent. Cricket chirps seem almost deafeningly loud and the occasional owl hoot is startling. After the past couple of days, though, Kurapika is grateful for the peace and quiet. He readjusts himself on the railing and enjoys the cool night breeze.

"Stargazing?" someone muses, appearing at his elbow.

Kurapika gives Kurama a sidelong glance. "Enjoying the quiet. There's a full moon tonight."

"Yes," Kurama says, in a strange voice. Before Kurapika can ask if something is wrong, Kurama joins him on the railing. "I like this place. It reminds me of a temple we have back in Ningenkai."

"I'm just glad it's virtually abandoned. Could you imagine if we had to do this in town?"

"Hmm." Kurama is wearing a red-and-white tunic, strangely impeccable considering all of the hiking they did today. "At least we found the portal. Now, it's up to Kuwabara-kun."

Kurapika laughs, although it's humorless. "I'm glad there is a portal on Whale Island at all, difficult as it is to open. Else, you four might be here for a very long time." Indeed, there _was_ a gate connecting their two worlds, but the effort required to make it _detectable_ was so great, Kuwabara is still sleeping it off. According to Kurama, once Kuwabara is strong enough to try again, he will use his reiki to actually open the gate, thus allowing their four guests to return home.

It's been quite the little vacation on Whale Island, Kurapika reflects. _So much for the four of us spending some time together. Oh, well. At least we can never say we're bored._ "Do you want some tea?" As he asks, he glances at the half-demon, and then he blinks. "Are you all right?"

Kurama ceases shuddering abruptly, and looks at him. The intensity in those green eyes almost make Kurapika want to back away. "Do you like hunting?" the redhead asks.

Kurapika blinks. "Uh... it's something that has to be done? When I was in Rukuso, we'd... Kurama, are you feeling all right?"

His companion leaps off the railing, landing on the grass. "The full moon," he comments. "This place, it's... hm. I'm afraid I'm not feeling very well. I'm going to take a walk, get some air."

"... Okay," Kurapika concedes. He watches the redhead leave, walking at a brisk pace, and frowns. Once the half-demon is out of sight, Kurapika shrugs and decides to make tea, anyway. But first, he'll check on Kuwabara.

Currently, Kurapika, Kurama, and Kuwabara are the only occupants of the temple. It's serving as their base of operation, so to speak, and Kuwabara currently rests in one of the rooms. Gon, Killua, and Yusuke have gone to Gon's hometown to both pick up some food and visit Mito-san, since they have been unexpectedly ignoring her during this strange visit. Leorio joined them, but he wanted to fetch some medical supplies, as well -- just in case. Hiei is... well, who knows where Hiei is? He said he was going to explore Whale Island; Kurapika figures he's just really anti-social.

Hoping Kurama is okay -- people can feel strange things when they're far from home -- Kurapika heads for Kuwabara's room.

***

It's this world, Kurama is convinced. The urge, the moon, it pulls at him. This never happens in Ningenkai. Makai -- sometimes, but that is a demon's world. This world, it....

Kurapika is part of the problem, he reasons. He caters to Kurama's particular kind of hunger -- just as Hiei did, once upon a time. Seemingly soft and gentle, but beneath that, a hardened warrior -- and beneath _that_ , fear and need. And now they are under the same roof, just the two of them, and the moon _glimmers._

The youko in him fights for control. Or -- perhaps that isn't the best way to put it. The youko fights for a return to its roots. Kurama inhales through his teeth, envisioning past hunts, feeling the urge to hunt again.

Kurama gives in to instinct; there really isn't any point in being difficult. The air around him shimmers, his ki signature strengthens, and Kurama sheds Minamino Shuuichi and stretches.

Youko Kurama beholds the dense forest of Whale Island. So far away from home, and yet not so far removed. He turns around, surveys the temple grounds, and growls.

***

He finds Kurapika in Kuwabara's room, checking on their companion. Such a pretty little thing -- strong and supple and _needing._ "There you are."

Kurapika glances at him, a double-take, and then his eyes widen. "Kurama?" he wonders, uncertain.

He knows about Youko Kurama, of course -- Kurama has told him. But Youko Kurama is the kind of demon you have to _meet._ "Indeed."

Still uncertain, Kurapika looks him up and down. "Why are you...?"

In demon-form? Kurama finishes for him. Looking at you like that? "Sometimes, people act strangely when they are away from home."

Something changes in Kurapika's face. "Strangely how?" he ventures, stepping away from Kuwabara's bed.

He bares his teeth. "I asked if you enjoyed the hunt." No response, but oh, there is _suspicion._ "Youko hunt. When we wish to hunt, the idea _consumes us._ The urge to give chase, to overcome -- it's strong. I can't deny it."

Kurapika licks his upper lip before replying, and the action just makes him more desirable. "Kurama, what--?"

"I'm thinking," his voice comes out heavily, "I'm thinking of the hunt."

"You're joking," Kurapika protests. He sounds in control, but Youko Kurama notices how he takes a half-step back toward the far wall. The night breeze intrudes; the curtains waver. "I thought you were an old, powerful demon."

 _Yes, but this world -- all its smells...._ "This atmosphere is... not quite accommodating me."

"What does that mean?" There must be something in Kurama's expression, because Kurapika's gaze is trained on his face, watching for any sort of _flinch._

"It means Minamino Shuuichi is not in control right now." Youko Kurama coos these words in a smooth baritone; gone is Minamino's soft alto.

"Who?" Kurapika is understandably confused. "What happened to your voice?"

His tunic is so distracting, fluid with his movements as he stretches. "Ahhh," he sighs openly, a smile upon his lips. He has never been one for either modesty or shyness. "Demons are such sensual beings," he says. "Perhaps because we live so long. Might as well make it exciting, hm?"

A ripple in his _ki_ \-- reiki? No, Nen: the little one is armed with silver chains, and has assumed a ready stance. It doesn't look _pitiful_ , exactly, but there is all that confusion in his eyes -- besides the fact that he is so young, and about a foot short of anything that would stand a chance.

Well, not counting--

"You had better not be thinking of..." Kurapika trails off, but his gaze flickers -- ever swiftly -- to the sickbed.

Kurama looks to the exhausted patient, sleeping the deepest sleep possible. Kuwabara Kazuma has no idea what is taking place in his room. Still, the idea that Kurapika believes harming Kuwabara is his intention makes him grin. He's sure the action shows off all his demonic teeth. "Don't be ridiculous. The hunt isn't about the _catch_ ; it's about the _chase._ "

Kurapika is a intelligent human. Kurama is sure he only takes so long to balk because he simply cannot bring himself to _believe it._ "You -- you're not going to--?"

Youko Kurama stands tall, showing off his full height. "It will be fun. The great outdoors, as you humans are wont to call them. The beauty of nature, the beauty of..." he trails off, smirking.

The ready stance becomes a fighting one. "You want to _eat me?_ " Kurapika flabbergasts.

Kurama puts a hand on his hip, drums his fingers against the bone. "Not exactly."

"W-what?" Predictably, the other viable option brings Kurapika up short. "Well, no!"

Kurama saunters a bit closer. "Demons are exotic; usually people jump at the chance. I could change your mind...?" His loins ache a little already; has it been so long?

"Stay back," it's a warrior's threat; the chains are waiting, "or I'll--"

"What?" Kurama wants to know, amused. "You'll what? You'll attack poor Minamino Shuuichi -- _your_ Kurama? It isn't as though he wants to be doing this, hmm?" Kurapika's will to fight visibly falters. It was too easy. Everyone has a weakness; it's usually a friend.

The only problem is that Kurapika appears more angry than flustered, now. "So what do you _want?_ " he demands.

Kurama makes a show of licking one long fingernail. "I told you: a hunt." Best to move things along, now, as they are losing moonlight. "Run wherever you like, but I'm coming after you. If you can elude me until sunrise... we'll forget this whole thing ever happened."

"And," it's obvious that he doesn't want to ask, "and if I don't?"

"... Well," Kurama purrs, "a night with the great Youko Kurama is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Are you _fucking serious?!_ " Kurapika yelps -- and it's kind of cute that he glances left and right, already looking for some sort of trap -- or escape route.

"I'll give you to the count of ten," Kurama ignores his outburst. "I am a generous demon. Also, I like to hunt. One."

"Kurama," his prey bargains, "you've got to be in there somewhere. Tell me you're only joking. I mean, it's rather easy to fool me with -- with--"

"Two."

Two steps backwards. "Kurama, I'm serious. I don't want to hurt you, but--"

"Three."

"But this is no time for silly games! Our friends are counting on us to... really, whatever demon trick you're pulling -- well played! You got me -- so can we--?"

"Four," Kurama intones, and with a flicker of youki, the wall comes alive with flora. He picks them purposefully, adding to the fight-or-flight atmosphere of the room. One vine unfurls, reaches out to--

Kurapika cuts it down with force he might have used on Kurama. "Fucking demon!" he snaps, and then he's gone -- diving out the window and into the night.

Kurama inhales the sweet scent of fleeing prey. "Five...."

***

Whale Island's foliage is dense and unforgiving. Kurapika is grateful that he is not wearing his tabard, lest he be wasting valuable time untangling it from branches.

He decides to take to the air, first, and once he puts a suitable distance between himself and the youko, then he can concentrate on hiding somewhere until dawn -- and maybe later than that.

 _What has gotten into him?_ he wonders as he leaps. The new, young branch protests the sudden addition of his weight, but it holds him. He uses its malleable bend as a springboard to the next branch. _If Kurama is trapped in there, somehow, then I should..._ What, should what? He doesn't know enough about Kurama's youkai side to start making decisions like that. Without Yusuke or Hiei, he has no idea what he should do about the other visitor. He didn't know that the youko had its own _personality._

Or that it wants to -- _Ergh._ The bloody youko doesn't even _know him._

Jump, jump, jump. Kurama must have finished counting by now. So, how did youko hunt their prey? _I should have asked before running,_ Kurapika regrets, a touch sardonic. Do they have excellent eyesight? Sense of smell? _Oh._

Kurapika stops short, crouching on a sturdy branch. He listens, filtering the night sounds in search of -- running water! Switching directions, he begins following the rushing water. Washing away his scent should help for a while, he reasons.

 _But what if he stalks prey by another means? Like Nen, or ki, or something else?_

Well, in that case, he's screwed -- and he winces at the unintentional, _terrible_ , pun.

***

Kurama doesn't begin stalking as soon as he reaches the count of ten. No, he is drawn to the hunt, but he hasn't taken a _complete_ leave of his senses. His first order of business is dispelling the flora he summoned. Should Kuwabara wake during the night, it would surely cause him some concern. The second task is warding the temple, providing protection for said deeply sleeping Kuwabara. Whale Island seems relatively safe, but Kurama doesn't want to take any chances.

The wards he sets are particularly strong. Should a stranger be foolish enough to try and penetrate the barrier, a few of Kurama's carnivorous plants would materialize -- and, well, that would be the end of _that._

Once satisfied with his work, Kurama leaves the temple. He chooses to walk out the front door, rather than escape through the window. _This is exhilarating already,_ he purrs to himself. Then he shudders. _So, which way did he go?_ In hindsight, Kurama figures he should have stipulated that Kurapika could not flee the _forest._ "Well," he decides, "I'll have to prepare for that." There are several hours before sunrise: more than enough time for Kurapika to escape the forest altogether and head into town.

Kurama takes off, leaping into the trees and making vaguely for the edge of the forest. He catches Kurapika's "scent" on one tree: a uniquely _human_ ki signature mixed with sweat and coconut milk. _Hm. Cute._ He decides to follow it for a while, to see what he finds.

The trail stops at a forest river. Well, it doesn't really _stop_ , but Kurapika doesn't have a ki signature per se, so having the smell washed away is as an effective disguise as any. Now Kurama will have to concentrate harder.

"He's smart," he admits, deciding to head for the forest's edge again. "But it's a little chilly tonight; I'm sure he'll regret that."

***

There is an icy tinge to the air tonight, and leaping around in drenched clothing doesn't help matters any. Once Kurapika finds what he deems to be a safe tree, he spends at least ten minutes huddled in on himself, perched high above the ground. The owl on the branch next to him seems puzzled; it cocks its head and regards him with large, piercing eyes.

 _Wow, that was stupid,_ he scolds himself. _I hope it did some good._ Now his clothes are wet -- and already dirty -- and he's cold. But maybe now he'll be able to get out of here undetected.

He stands up -- the owl flies away in surprise -- and glances around, trying to gather his bearings. _I think I should head east._ Once he gets out of the forest, he can head to the nearest village and wait until dawn. Maybe he'll head to Mito-san's house and she'll let him have a hot bath.

Either way, he can't stay here. Resolved, he takes off again, keeping as sharp a lookout for Kurama as he can.

***

It takes a long time, but Kurama eventually re-orients himself and manages to find the forest's edge closest to Gon's village -- the way by which they had come before. Once there, he works his youki and builds wards, smirking all the while.

He glances at the moon, wonders if enough time has passed for Kurapika to start giving off a scent again. He'll start back at the river and go from there.

He's en route again, licking his lips as he leaps through the trees -- and then something in the air changes, and he senses movement.

Kurama stops short, steadying himself without effort on the branch that protests his weight. "Well, well," he murmurs, with a teeth-baring grin.

***

He's not sure how long it takes him to reach the edge of the forest, but at last, Kurapika can see where the darkness ends and the open plain begins. He dives to the ground, landing in a crouch before taking off at a run, dead twigs snapping beneath his feet. He's almost there--

The air changes -- a whipping sound, and Kurapika leaps backward. The plant's reach is impressive; it keeps coming -- he has to backflip twice before he can get enough leverage to strike back with the Dowsing chain. The vines actually _shriek_ when severed, and the thick, thorny monstrosities that hit the forest floor secrete a strange green ooze.

Kurapika takes another step or two back, a little disgusted at the violent flora, and then his jaw drops. The entire edge of the forest -- his escape route -- is now a wall of living vines. Worse, he's certain the triggering of the trap has alerted Kurama -- and now the youko knows exactly where he is.

"This isn't _fair!_ " Kurapika states, stamping his foot in anger.

"I believe one should be allowed to use all his available assets," Kurama counters.

Kurapika spins around, curses under his breath. Now he's trapped. He flicks his hand, and the Dowsing chain morphs. Its solid links, glowing faintly purple with Nen, weave a pattern before him: a spider-web shield.

"You're being a little dramatic," the youko tells him. "We're just playing." Even as he says so, Kurama rushes forward -- trying to drive him back toward the vines, where he'd be helpless. The youko's hand moves, producing a familiar weapon.

The spider-web expands and contracts, catching the Rose Whip and surprising Kurama enough to release it. Out of the youko's grip, it drops to the ground in its original form as Kurapika jumps, using the shield as a buffer to leap over Kurama. He lands and turns just in time to catch Kurama's counter. The youko's outstretched hand is actually glowing -- youki? -- and Kurapika's shield is suddenly infested with thorns. They're easy enough to dispel -- the chains are part of _him_ \-- but the initial startle gives Kurama the opportunity to attack with another Rose Whip. At that point, it becomes an outright duel: whips and chains dancing across the battlefield.

"What about Kuwabara?" Kurapika shouts at one point, partly out of true concern and partly in an attempt to distract the youko -- surely the human Kurama is in there somewhere?

"Oh, he's fine. He'll be quite safe." Bloody demon wasn't even _fazed._ "Don't worry, all my attention is focused on you."

 _I'm sure it is,_ he thinks, angrily.

Eventually, Kurapika's frenzied movements allow for him to once again take to the trees. This time, though, Kurama is hot on his heels and adrenaline is pumping through his veins. The branches are obstacles; Kurama is the penalty. _One mistake, and... one misstep, and..._

The next branch he lands on is dead -- and so is he, once his weight accelerates what nature intends and he plummets to the earth. He cries out, sends the Dowsing chain vaguely upward in search of something -- anything -- to slow his fall. He feels it wrap about another branch, grow taut, and he uses that to turn his drop into a controlled landing.

For all his effort, he lands with his back to a tree, facing a youko who lands not six feet away. He scrambles away from the tree -- for all he knows, Kurama will have it spout teeth and eat him. Unfortunately, the movement brings him closer to the fox demon. He freezes, muscles locked in a fight-or-flight state of readiness, waiting.

***

It would be so easy, Kurama muses, contemplating his cornered prey. So easy to just physically catch him: a vine or two here, and Venus flytrap there... too easy, actually. He would win the hunt, but he wouldn't _conquer._ Kurapika's type -- their biggest weakness is pride. Tie him up, and he gets an excuse for why he had to surrender. Make him say it on his own, now _that_ is an accomplishment.

Youko Kurama hunts only the most elusive of prey.

He spreads his hands, ostensibly in peace, although they are enveloped in the aura of his youki. "Surrender?" he asks -- suave, confident, and welcoming. He makes the notion sound _inviting_ , not something to dread. It was inevitable, anyway -- might as well enjoy it.

"No," Kurapika insists, his voice soft but leaving no room for argument.

Kurama allows his youki to flicker; time for a little intimidation.

Someone screams: shrill, piercing, _petrified._

***

Kurapika starts, half-distracted from his precarious situation. "What--? Did you hear that?" Kurama considers him, and Kurapika can't read anything on the youko's face. _Please tell me the human side is not so far removed that he would not..._

"It came from that direction," Kurama declares, pointing further north. "It can't be that far away."

Grateful for the ally -- for many reasons -- Kurapika starts running. "Let's go!"

Together, Kurapika and Kurama race through the forest, following the screams that can only be coming from a young girl. As they draw closer, they can hear -- they hear--

"Boars!" Kurapika realizes, his heart in his throat.

"I smell them," Kurama affirms.

They find the scene further up the forest's edge. Four wild boars are ramming a tree, trying to knock it down and win the prize inside: a little girl and the man to whom she clings. The man is ineffectively poking at the boards with a rake.

Whale Island wild boars are twice the size of their mainland cousins -- and twice as nasty. Kurapika goes in prepared to have to kill them, whipping out the Dowsing chain and lassoing one around its snout. With a grunt, he pulls it away, sending it rolling in the mud and startling the others. When they turn to charge, Kurama takes over, throwing a handful of seeds. When they hit the ground, they sprout into gigantic Venus flytraps -- huge man-eating flowers that bring Kurapika up short, gaping.

As for the boars, they know fear -- and the roar of the plants is enough to have them turn tail and retreat.

Unfortunately, the giant plants frighten the little girl as much as the boars did, and once Kurama dismisses them, it is some time before the man -- father? Uncle? -- is able to calm her.

"Impressive," Kurapika comments to Kurama. "Good work." _Thank you for not using those on me._

"Thank you, darling," is the smooth reply. Kurapika makes a puzzled face at the endearment, but is willing to chalk it up to the youko's, ah, idiosyncrasies.

"Thank you!" the man exults once he's out of the tree. With the little girl in one arm and the rake in the other, he stumbles over to them and does his best rendition of a bow from the waist. "Please, please accept my sincere thanks. I don't know how to thank you enough!"

"Please," Kurama says, "it was no trouble."

"A-ah," the man replies, glancing Kurama up and down. "Foreigner, huh? By your accent, I mean. H-how did you...?"

"An illusion," Kurama assures them, to Kurapika's relief. There are strange types on Whale Island, but not quite so strange! "Purely an illusion."

"What happened to you?" Kurapika asks.

"Jibii." The man bows his head. "I was working my fields, getting an early start." He gestures vaguely eastward. "Eri here wanted to pick poppies. I didn't think she would wander quite so far. I got here just in time -- sort of," he adds, making a face. "Thank the nice men, Eri."

The little brunette peeks at them. "Thank you," she mumbles.

"You're quite welcome," Kurapika replies with a smile.

"Quite welcome," Kurama echoes, waving at her.

"Well, again -- I don't know how to thank you enough," Jibii says again. Eri cuddles to him, evidently worn out from her ordeal.

"Don't even mention it," Kurapika waves the gratitude away. "Make sure she gets plenty of rest, after tonight."

"I doubt the boars will give you any further trouble," Kurama assures the man. "Even without the beating we gave them, my scent is all around here, now. They know who is the stronger."

Jibii bows, holding Eri close, and then turns and leaves them, presumably back toward his village. Kurapika supposes it can't be far, considering how Eri ended up wandering in the woods. He watches their silhouettes move within the pre-dawn light.

"Well," he says, glancing down at the morning dew settling on the grass. "That worked out fairly nicely, didn't it?" He suppresses a shiver; his clothes are still damp, and now there is no adrenaline keeping his core warm.

"It certainly did," Kurama agrees -- and then his shoulders are seized in two large, long-nailed hands. "Caught you."

"What? No," Kurapika struggles in the youko's grip, "no, it's daybreak!" He regrets the panicked note in his voice.

"It isn't sunrise," Kurama notes.

"But," Kurapika sputters -- humiliated to be sputtering -- "that's cheating!"

"Hmm," the youko muses, rubbing his hands up and down Kurapika's biceps a few times, "how so? I don't recall any specific terms we made regarding the sudden interference of others."

He's actually sorry when the hands stop moving; they were warm. "Perhaps this is because you seem to lack morals," he argues. "We were interrupted. The hunt ended a long time ago, Youko."

"For you, maybe. Me? I was always waiting for the perfect time to strike. A masterful hunt requires only one strike." One hand moves, one long nail skirts up the side of his neck.

 _"Don't!"_ Kurapika snaps, managing to twist halfway around before the youko's grip stops him. Now they are face-to-face -- well, more or less -- and Kurapika can see the genuine puzzlement in the demon's eyes.

"Gods and demons," Kurama sighs, "but you really think I'm going to hurt you."

The obvious regret in the demon's wounded voice makes Kurapika second-guess  
himself. "Excuse me?" he wonders, relaxing in the youko's grip. When he does, that grip loosens accordingly.

Kurama tosses his silver mane. "You think I am some decadent creature, roaming the earth in search of pleasure, indiscriminately. You think I exist only for myself, and take what I want."

"Um," Kurapika points out, slowly, "but isn't that what you're doing?"

"Of course," Kurama chuckles, "but there's nary any sense in being an _ogre_ about it."

"Are there ogres in Makai?" Kurapika hastily asks, trying to steer the subject away from, ah, where it's clearly headed.

"All sorts. Now," the youko gives him the gentlest smile he's seen on that face all night. Or, well, ever. "As I've said, demons are overall sensual creatures. There is much more pleasure to be had if _everyone_ is enjoying it, no?"

Kurapika doesn't exactly have an answer for this. He inhales, and then exhales -- heavily. And then shivers.

Youko Kurama makes a disparaging noise. "This is ridiculous. You're freezing; come here."

Allowing himself to be pulled against the youko goes against the two rules he set in place for this hunt. (The first being, don't get caught; the second being, _do not get caught_.) But once he's _there_ , nestled and enveloped and secure, it doesn't seem so bad. Besides, Kurama's chest and his billowy tunic are the closest thing to a bed Kurapika has seen in an entire day, and all this running around has made him tired. The youko is giving off this faint warmth -- some kind of fire?

"I thought Hiei used fire," he murmurs.

"Youki," Kurama explains. "That's just my youki."

As the sun rises, Kurama maneoveurs them over to a large tree. Kurapika follows the youko's lead as they settle down on the forest floor. He doesn't quite remember what happened next; perhaps he slept for a little while, drifting in and out, cheek pressed against Kurama's tunic. He becomes more lucid once a pair of lips starts playing with his ear.

He fidgets; it kind of tickles. And then he remembers. He twists in the youko's embrace, turning to sit with his back against the demon. There is a good foot's worth of a height distance between them, so he's able to look up at Kurama. "You _chased_ me," he mutters, accusing. "Until _dawn._ "

"Forgive me?" Kurama demurs, tracing one nail down the column of his throat. Almost before the youko even realizes what he's doing, the fabric beneath his claw gives way.

"Hey," Kurapika protests, sitting up straight to examine the damage. His shirt is now damp, dirty, _and_ sports a two-inch tear below the collar. Kurapika glowers at the rip; he hasn't even agreed to _do_ anything yet. Or ever.

"Forgive me," Kurama implores again, touching those surprisingly soft lips to the back of Kurapika's neck.

He feels _trapped._ "Could you _stop touching me?_ "

Kurama makes a sound deep in his throat, but moves away. "When people say that, it usually means they've either been touched too much, or too little. Which is it?"

"You know which it is," Kurapika retorts in a curt, cutting tone. He's had it up to _here_ with this stupid demon and his stupid jabs and _what did he know_ , anyway? And it wasn't "too little," it just wasn't _enough_ \-- one mistake, one ache from a darker time, and then no time at all for such trivialties.

"It's quite apparent," Kurama agrees, albeit gently.

They sit in silence for some time, Kurapika straight as a board and fighting his shivering reflex. Gradually, Kurama does touch him again. It begins as a subtle movement, the tracing of some nonsense design across his back. Through the fabric of his shirt, it actually feels really nice -- kind of ticklish, kind of exciting. Like getting a massage, only sneakier. A few minutes later, Kurapika has given up all pretense of being angry and settles back against the demon.

"The others will wonder where we are," Kurapika reminds his companion.

"Let them. Hiei knows how to find me. They probably aren't back yet," Kurama adds.

"Hm." Kurapika's head is drooping when Kurama's question makes him alert again. "Huh?"

"I asked if I could kiss you." So formal, so -- unlike the monster that had him on the run all night.

Kurapika looks up, and finds Kurama looking down. Some of his hair falls over his shoulders, forming a curtain around their heads. "You're asking, after all you put me through?"

"You keep bringing that up," Kurama muses, amused. "Don't you want to prove you were worth it?"

Kurapika considers a lot of things: the past night, his fast friendship with Kurama, the duality of the youko, and how he feels right now. It takes a few minutes, but eventually he opens his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Okay."

The moment before their lips touch, Kurapika thinks, _Oh, my god, I'm about to kiss a demon._

Everything after that is easy, if a little overwhelming.

 _Pheromones,_ he thinks for one, fleeting instant. _Must be demonic pheromones._ They're the only explanation for the giddiness and the painful knot in the pit of his stomach. Or maybe this is how kissing is supposed to feel, once it's no longer clumsy, awkward, or scared. Even Kurama's _tongue_ feels different: silky, maybe velvety? It's strange -- strangely addicting; it's when Kurama pulls away that he feels deprived of air.

He sits up, disoriented -- and squints against the morning light, having had his eyes closed for long minutes. He notices he's breathing a bit heavier, moves away -- needs some air. When he glances at Kurama, the youko is leaning back against the tree, looking smug, but not looking _smug_ about looking smug.

"That doesn't even make _sense,_ " Kurapika berates himself.

"Hm?" Kurama wonders, one ear twitching.

Kurapika glances down; along the length of Kurama's leg runs the long, silver tail. He reaches to touch it, partly out of curiosity and partly because he doesn't think he can look the youko in the eye for very long. The tail is soft and fluffy, and it lifts to accommodate his questing hand. He's distracted by the silver strands when Kurama touches his shoulder.

"Hm?" Kurapika glances at him, and starts at the sight of the youko from the night: the predatory look, the tongue, the -- the _sexuality._ "Kurama?"

"Our tails are very sensitive," the youko explains, teeth bared.

Kurapika glances down at it, just in time for it to move in tune with the rest of Kurama's body. With delicate precision, Kurama shifts, and begins to crawl closer. _What...? Oh,_ he realizes, and swallows, throat suddenly dry. He's a little nervous. Why? What a question. Kurama has stopped, but he looks ready to pounce. "I didn't mean," Kurapika begins to apologize, but the has the breath knocked out of him.

Initially, adrenaline. Kurapika stiffens, one fist clenching a fistful of tunic and the other poised to strike -- until Kurama pins it. "Would you relax?" the youko insists.

"It's not that simple," Kurapika retorts, decidedly uncomfortable -- unused to lying beneath a seven-foot-tall demon. Actually, the few times he _has_ been beneath someone was when the particular someone was trying to kill him. _I feel--_ his breath catches. Trapped. Vulnerable. Strangely turned-on. Wait, what?

Above him, Kurama is watching his facial expressions intently. He still has one of Kurapika's wrists pinned against the cool grass. "I won't ridicule the feelings humans attach to sex, but I will say that it only means what you want it to mean to yourself."

Kurapika shakes his head. "No, that's not what I meant."

"Ah. Then..." In one fluid motion, Kurama rolls them over so that Kurapika drapes over him, instead. "How's that?"

It's a lot better, actually; amazing what the right orientation will do. Once he's adjusted himself, he notices that Kurama is now lying on a bed of lush, green moss. "You didn't do that for me," he points out, petulant.

"How rude of me," Kurama admits, smooth and suave. "So, now what?" The youko's hands are on his hips, but they haven't moved. Still, what the demon desires is obvious. His face betrays nothing, but his eyes certainly do.

Kurapika's breathing a bit easier, now, and finds his gaze fixed on Kurama's mouth. The youko makes no move, so the next course of action is obviously all up to him. Still vaguely at war with himself, Kurapika makes that move. That smug mouth quirks into a half-smile as he descends. He stops short, though, imagining Kurama's velvet tongue. He wants to feel it again -- so badly that he _doesn't_ want to. Like, if he touches it again, its veracity will be tested and it will disappear. Kurama solves the problem by bridging the gap, sneaking his tongue out to lick Kurapika's lips. It's enough to draw him in.

He is rarely speechless, but he simply can't describe the way it feels. Nor can he think about anything but how Kurama's tongue snakes around his own, how Kurama's nails feel against his skin -- _Wait, when did he--?_ \-- or how Kurama's erection feels against his leg. He shifts, pants beginning to feel a little confining. They're loose enough, designed for battle, but -- _I--_

They break for air, gasping. Overwhelmed, Kurapika shifts downward and rests his forehead on Kurama's chest. The youko doesn't comment on what he feels pressed against his stomach, but those questing hand are suddenly eager to assist in divesting him of his clothing.

He lets the shirt go, but not the pants. "Very well," the youko doesn't _quite_ sigh. Sitting astride Kurama's hips to toss his shirt aside, Kurapika marvels at what has grown around them. Besides the moss that is serving as makeshift bedding, they are surrounded by scant blades of tall grass and strange flowers Kurapika has never seen. The bright colors -- scarlet, purple, orange -- all seem so out of place in the forest.

"When did you do that?" Kurapika wonders, blinking down at Kurama.

"Hm? Oh, this?" the youko gestures vaguely. "I'm not sure. Sometimes things just happen."

"I didn't notice anything..."

"You were busy," Kurama points out, tracing a line down his belly.

Kurapika steels himself, not wanting to shiver while they are making eye contact. Kurama can tell he wants to, though, and palms the bulge between his legs. _Ah--!_ Kurama's lips quirk, and Kurapika glares. Half-shy and half-indignant, he scoots back, trying to get out of reach -- only to find himself in a precarious position. Kurama's erection is a hard warmth, and the friction makes the youko groan. Kurapika falters at the sound -- aroused that he made it happen and sort of wanting to hear it again.

On the heels of that last thought comes a fevered flurry of movement from the youko. Kurapika can barely protest before their positions are once again reversed, and once he's on his back there is wariness and arousal and, _Against bare skin, moss feels kind of fantastic._ The fox demon growls, a sound that rumbles from low in his throat -- and it's hungry and impatient. Kurama sits up on his heels and grabs at Kurapika's pants.

"No!" Kurapika snaps, diligent even in the face of an over-eager, sex-driven demon. "No, don't you _dare!_ Don't you _dare_ rip them off!"

Kurama pauses in his struggle, glancing up with one raised eyebrow and a positively evil expression. "Then I think you know the only other option?"

He averts his gaze, pointedly not staring at Kurama. He wonders if he's blushing. He's definitely nervous, and kind of embarrassed, and even a little sad -- although he has no idea where _that_ comes from. But this started out as some kind of game he didn't even want to play, and now he sort of _is_ marveled by and attracted to the youko, and Kurama is just...!

Kurama moves, leans in, and that velvet tongue against his nipple so startles him, he makes some kind of sound. He's not sure what it wanted to be, exactly, because inherent modesty and vulnerable arousal combined into one choked whimper that barely escaped.

"You know," Kurama says, folding his hands on Kurapika's chest and resting his chin on them, "if you would stop reading too much into this, and stop thinking of it as some test of pride, you might actually really enjoy it."

"I, I _am_ ," Kurapika lies, but it's obvious that Kurama sees right through him, and the youko starts to fuss with the buttons on his pants. Kurapika swallows, but when Kurama locks eyes with him, he bites his tongue and gives the faintest of nods. He even helps the demon shimmy them off and kicks them away. The first thing he feels is a soft, full-body tingle. "Oh -- wow," he laughs, and actually wiggles around.

"What?" Kurama asks, amused.

"I just -- really love moss, all of a sudden."

The demon chuckles, reaches out and urges him to turn over. "Here, it's even better this way."

It _is,_ Kurapika realizes. He's suddenly more relaxed, giddier, and his cheek feels funny. He hears Kurama disrobing behind him. "Is this moss special?" he wonders, rolling back over.

"You could say that," Kurama replies, and Kurapika freezes, eyes trained on the youko's groin, which is conveniently at eye-level for him. The demon's erection is huge and hard, standing tall and proud from a forest of silver hair. Kurapika blinks, but it's still there: large and with a commanding presence to match the tall, muscled youko to which it belongs. A tangible silence stretches between them.

Finally, Kurama ventures gently, "Are you frightened?"

"I'm _intimidated,_ " Kurapika clarifies.

"Oh, don't be," the youko demurs, stretching out beside him. "There's no reason for that." Those long fingernails brush back his hair. "You're very beautiful, are you aware?"

"Okay, that's not helping."

Kurama smiles, and then they're kissing again -- and it still feels good, and moss is _amazing_ , and somehow he's maneuvered onto his back again. Kurama's mouth on his neck makes him shiver, but his eyes are drawn to the pink flower that grows tall and blooms.

Kurama lifts himself and smiles. "You can still say no," he assures Kurapika, even as he urges him to bend his knees. "Although that would just result in more convincing." To demonstrate, Kurama's hand floats between Kurapika's thighs, teasing.

Kurapika finds himself moving like a lodestone, drawn to the youko's touch. "No," he says. "I mean, yes."

"You're sure?" Kurama reaches for the flower, dipping his fingers within. They emerge coated with a strange nectar.

"I'm sure," Kurapika breathes. He gives the demon a concerned look. "But, your nails."

"Hm? Oh." Kurama smiles again, and slides one coated finger down Kurapika's nose. The nectar is thick and dripping and smells like paradise. "Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. Well, you will -- but they will be all good things."

He doesn't ask if it's Kurapika's first time with a man. He doesn't _need_ to, but it's nice that he makes a point not to bring it up. He also doesn't act surprised when Kurapika doesn't flinch at the slick finger that slides inside. Shaye had not been shy -- then again, Shaye's fingers had not touched--!

"Ah!" he yelps, all attention focused inward, on the zinging sensation that ripples up through him. Kurama laughs, and keeps doing it. Eventually, he feels another finger; eventually, he's clawing at the moss.

"You look strained," Kurama comments, withdrawing his fingers.

 _That's not it,_ Kurapika wants to say, but he can't because Kurama goes down on him, and from then on _nothing else matters._

It's been so long, and it feels so good. Youko tongues are without comparison; it's hot and it's wet and Kurapika would give anything to have it go on for five more minutes. He can't keep still and he pulls at long silver hair and it's coming -- higher and higher and _just a little higher_ and --

\-- stops.

"Wh-at?" Dazed, confused, _desperate._

"Turn around," Kurama commands, in a tone that invites no argument.

For Kurama to make him come, Kurapika would agree to _anything_ at this point. He rolls over, willing and eager, and gets on his hands and knees.

When it happens, it doesn't hurt. At least, it doesn't hurt the way he imagined it would. It's _surreal_. Kurama is a _demon_ \-- a demon who has lived for hundreds of years and who spent the night chasing and seducing him. There is a _demon inside of him...!_

The first cry is unwillingly torn from his throat: a strangled, desperate shout that makes Kurama moan.

"That's it," the youko encourages, breath ragged. "Let them hear -- let the world hear. When Youko Kurama fucks you, it's no cause for shame."

After the initial loss of control, a floodgate opens. He makes all kinds of noises as Kurama's thrusts rock him back and forth. They're moans and groans, whimpers and shouts, but they all come from somewhere deep inside. "Ku--"

"Hmmmmmmm?" the youko drags the inquiry out, quickening his pace -- if possible.

He _wants_ to say the demon's name -- _Isn't that what you're supposed to do?_ \-- but he can't, he just can't. He feels far away but also right where he is and everything just _feels so good._ He can barely think, and the moss is soft beneath his hands, and if he looks up, he can see a beautiful red flower.

And then Kurama stops -- just _stops_ \-- after a thrust, deep and hard. Kurapika actually hears himself whine, but it's short-lived because one of Kurama's hands snakes around and grabs him, coaxing and demanding and urging. It all bubbles over, and with an explosive shout, he comes -- finally, finally, _finally._

He feels dizzy, faint -- almost collapses. But Kurama is moving again, raking sharp nails down his back and growling like the demon he is. Kurapika rides both the aftershocks of orgasm and Kurama's own frenzied thrusts until the youko comes -- loudly, warmly, wetly.

It's a foreign feeling -- and a drippy one, Kurapika thinks in dismay. He squirms when Kurama's slippery cock pulls out, and then chooses to collapse on a clean patch of the moss, away from the evidence of his own climax. _Imagine,_ he thinks to himself, _I was ready for bed_ before _the sex._

Kurama flops down beside him, and begins tracing those nonsense designs on his back. "There, now don't you feel better? I know a stress-release orgasm when I see one, and you were long overdue."

Kurapika doesn't bother arguing. Besides, he does feel better.

"... I don't want to disappoint you, but we can't stay here much longer. Kuwabara may not require strict supervision, but we may still be frowned upon if they find out we left him."

A soft, fluffy tail joins in the lazy caressing. It's a little strange at first, but he gets used to it. He's thankful the youko left it out of the tryst. "Mm-hm."

"Oh, my," Kurama utters, sounding mildly exasperated.

Before Kurapika can ask, something in the air changes, and then there is a third presence in little demonic oasis.

"For fuck's sake, Kurama," a telltale baritone spits.

Kurapika stiffens for a moment, stricken with embarrassment and shame, before scrambling cross Kurama in search of his clothes.

"Oh, thank you, Hiei." The youko's tone is heavy with sarcasm. "A whole night's work, undone."

Kurapika doesn't see Hiei's reaction to that, because he was busy getting dressed in record time.

"Hn. Maybe you shouldn't have broadcast your ki signature clear across the island."

"You _what?_ " Kurapika demands, now fully clothed and by all accounts ready for anything.

Kurama shrugs, looking apologetic. "As I said, sometimes things just happen, with me." He glances back at Hiei. "You weren't worried, were you?" the youko purrs, stretching an inviting hand toward the other demon.

Kurapika finds himself giving the youko as baleful a look as Hiei is. He feels slightly -- jealous? Possessive? _That's rather presumptuous,_ Kurapika scolds himself. _But I suppose it's normal,_ he figures. _We did just finish having sex before he started making eyes at Hiei. ... Bastard._

"Stupid fox." Hiei spits the words disdainfully, but Kurama seems to accept the insult in a different way. "Hurry up and get back. Everyone will be back soon. Hn," he adds, "I should have known you'd do something like this." He glances at Kurapika. "Didn't figure you for the type to go along with it."

"What business is it of yours?" Kurapika demands, already bitter; Hiei picked a _bad time._ But the fire demon flits away as swiftly as he came.

"Forget him," Kurama urges, reaching out to him. "It isn't whatever you're thinking."

Kurapika draws back, standing up and preparing to hike back to the temple. "I'm sure it isn't," he replies, sardonically.

Kurama stands, too, and again reaches for Kurapika. "Please don't be like that," he implores, in a softer voice -- a human-Kurama's voice. "Can we talk? Not Youko; you and me?"

Kurapika bristles, flinching away from the human as well as the demon. He is not so easily won over. "No time," he replies curtly. "You heard Hiei." Without waiting for a reply, Kurapika sprints back into the forest -- and as soon as he's able, takes to the trees for a quicker route.

At some point, a human Kurama joins him, although neither of them speak a word. Not yet. Perhaps later, but not yet.

***

Kurapika is taking his turn watching over Kuwabara when his friends return. He hasn't bothered to bathe or change yet, as Kurama claimed he was going to do so and Kurapika refused to join him.

Of course, Gon, Killua, and Leorio are vaguely horrified when they see the condition he's in. "What the hell happened?" Killua sputters.

"I _fell,_ " he snarls, and judging from his friends's faces, he may as well have told them to jump off a cliff and into a hellfire. Not even Leorio presses him.

And that suits him just fine.

 

~fin


End file.
